Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

Gryphus; “you call that murdered, do you? well, I call it

executed.”

And seeing that the prisoner was not only quiet, but

entirely prostrate and senseless, he rushed from the cell,

violently slamming the door, and noisily drawing the bolts.

Recovering his consciousness, Cornelius found himself alone,

and recognised the room where he was, — “the family cell,”

as Gryphus had called it, — as the fatal passage leading to

ignominious death.

And as he was a philosopher, and, more than that, as he was

a Christian, he began to pray for the soul of his godfather,

then for that of the Grand Pensionary, and at last submitted

with resignation to all the sufferings which God might

ordain for him.

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Then turning again to the concerns of earth, and having

satisfied himself that he was alone in his dungeon, he drew

from his breast the three bulbs of the black tulip, and

concealed them behind a block of stone, on which the

traditional water-jug of the prison was standing, in the

darkest corner of his cell.

Useless labour of so many years! such sweet hopes crushed;

his discovery was, after all, to lead to naught, just as his

own career was to be cut short. Here, in his prison, there

was not a trace of vegetation, not an atom of soil, not a

ray of sunshine.

At this thought Cornelius fell into a gloomy despair, from

which he was only aroused by an extraordinary circumstance.

What was this circumstance?

We shall inform the reader in our next chapter.

Chapter 10

The Jailer’s Daughter

On the same evening Gryphus, as he brought the prisoner his

mess, slipped on the damp flags whilst opening the door of

the cell, and fell, in the attempt to steady himself, on his

hand; but as it was turned the wrong way, he broke his arm

just above the wrist.

Cornelius rushed forward towards the jailer, but Gryphus,

who was not yet aware of the serious nature of his injury,

called out to him, —

“It is nothing: don’t you stir.”

He then tried to support himself on his arm, but the bone

gave way; then only he felt the pain, and uttered a cry.

When he became aware that his arm was broken, this man, so

harsh to others, fell swooning on the threshold, where he

remained motionless and cold, as if dead.

During all this time the door of the cell stood open and

Cornelius found himself almost free. But the thought never

entered his mind of profiting by this accident; he had seen

from the manner in which the arm was bent, and from the

noise it made in bending, that the bone was fractured, and

that the patient must be in great pain; and now he thought

of nothing else but of administering relief to the sufferer,

however little benevolent the man had shown himself during

their short interview.

At the noise of Gryphus’s fall, and at the cry which escaped

him, a hasty step was heard on the staircase, and

immediately after a lovely apparition presented itself to

the eyes of Cornelius.

It was the beautiful young Frisian, who, seeing her father

stretched on the ground, and the prisoner bending over him,

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uttered a faint cry, as in the first fright she thought

Gryphus, whose brutality she well knew, had fallen in

consequence of a struggle between him and the prisoner.

Cornelius understood what was passing in the mind of the

girl, at the very moment when the suspicion arose in her

heart.

But one moment told her the true state of the case and,

ashamed of her first thoughts, she cast her beautiful eyes,

wet with tears, on the young man, and said to him, —

“I beg your pardon, and thank you, sir; the first for what I

have thought, and the second for what you are doing.”

Cornelius blushed, and said, “I am but doing my duty as a

Christian in helping my neighbour.”

“Yes, and affording him your help this evening, you have

forgotten the abuse which he heaped on you this morning. Oh,